


Weightless waves

by sloganeer



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Domestic, Established Relationship, M/M, Marijuana, OT5 Friendship, Stoned Blow Jobs, Where We Are Tour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-03 16:55:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1751882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sloganeer/pseuds/sloganeer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They smoked three more between the five of them, with Harry accepting the joint when Louis offered it to him only every second time. The other times, he demanded a kiss instead. Louis gave him both, eagerly. By the time they had smoked all the weed Zayn had brought, drunk half the beer Liam had brought, and sung along to the Gaelic song stuck in Niall's head, they were stoned.</p><p>-</p><p>Or, the boys get stoned, Louis gets a blow job, and Harry is in a very weird mood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weightless waves

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this before the weed video dropped. I honestly didn't see that coming.

Harry was pissing him off. The tour started in a week, and Harry had spent the time back from LA in a frantic mess, doing laundry, changing the sheets on all their beds, cooking up everything in the cupboards and the refrigerator, so it wouldn't go bad while they were gone. He asked Louis to vacuum.

"We're leaving for two months, Haz. The dust will be here when we get back."

But Harry pulled out that bottom lip, and Louis took the vacuum out of his hands and turned it on so he wouldn't have to hear Harry whine at him anymore.

He was like this before every tour, but since they bought the new house, it had been worse. They were always gone, so when they were home, Harry went overboard, trying too hard to make it feel like home. He had only succeeded so far in making it feel like Louis' mum's home.

Louis didn't want to do chores on his days off. He didn't want Harry stressing out about what was going bad in the fridge.

He wanted Harry on the sofa next to him. He wanted Harry's big feet in his lap or Harry's curls tickling his nose where Harry was curled up on his chest. Louis just wanted Harry to slow down and enjoy this place they were slowly turning into their own. This house, where they didn't have to pretend, where they didn't have to play their roles. They didn't have to be Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson.

Here, they could be Harry and Louis, and Louis liked those guys best.

But Louis vacuumed. He even pulled the cushions off the sofa and sucked up the bits of crisps and wrappers. He found an orange lighter, Liam's lost leather cuff, and a few pounds in coins. 

"Is this my tip, then?" he asked Harry, dumping the treasure into his waiting hands. Harry pocketed the change, handed the lighter back to Louis, and walked away, already calling Liam to tell him about the cuff. 

"Tell those boys to come over and help us clean!" Louis called down the hallway, Harry already out of sight. "They make half this mess, besides." 

After he wrestled the vacuum back into its closet, where it lived with the other cleaning supplies Louis didn't understand, he put the kettle on for tea and flopped onto the clean sofa for a hard-earned break. There had to be a football game on somewhere. Louis paid for enough channels that he should be able to find something to watch. He would tell Harry it was important, a final, that he had to watch. Harry never kept track of that kind of thing.

Louis' phone chirped at him from the coffee table. "I hope you're not sending me instructions via text now!" Harry didn't respond. "I want a divorce," Louis muttered, but when he picked up his phone, it was Zayn--still "DJ MALIK" in Louis' contacts, years later.

 _whats up_ the text read. Louis knew Perrie was out of town, and poor Zayn was probably going mad, home all alone before the tour.

Instead of typing back, Louis called him up. 

"Nothing much, I guess," Zayn said, answering his own question.

"Harold has gone completely mental. Come and save me," Louis said.

"I'll bring the weed, yeah?"

Louis fell sideways on the sofa. The tension went right out of him. Weed would be so good right now. Maybe they could even get Harry to sit down long enough to enjoy himself.

"Please," Louis said. 

Zayn ended the call without saying goodbye. Louis tossed his phone back on the table, and he turned up the telly until he couldn't hear the shoes thumping around in the dryer.

Louis even fell asleep on the sofa, waking up when Harry stumbled down the stairs, shouting over the football, "Can't you hear that?" Louis couldn't hear that. He was sleeping so he wouldn't have to hear anything ever again.

Someone was thumping on their front door. It was probably Zayn, and he probably couldn't get in because Harry was paranoid and locked every door behind him. Louis hated why Harry had to be paranoid, but he really hated not being able to sneak up on Harry in the shower because he couldn't get through the door.

Rolling off the sofa and onto the floor, Louis was on his feet when Zayn and Harry wandered back into the living room. 

"Why didn't you tell me Zayn was coming over?" Harry said. He dropped his arm around Zayn's shoulder, reaching out to goose Louis' nipple through his shirt. Louis jumped and slapped Harry away. "I would have told Liam to join us." He left with a kiss to Louis' cheek. "And call Niall. I'll finish the laundry."

Zayn caught Louis' eye once Harry was gone. "Laundry, mate? He's full-on today." 

"Don't I know it." Louis found his phone and unlocked it to call Niall. "You've got Liam?" he asked, pointing his phone at Zayn, who nodded, pulling his own phone from his pocket.

"Tommo!" Niall wasn't on speaker, but his voice rang out to fill the room. "What's happening?" 

"We're all going mad without you. Come over to the house."

"Yes!" Niall said. "Tell me what you need me to pick up on the way. Or is Harry doing luncheon?"

"He's doing laundry," Louis said.

"Fuck me," Niall said. "I'll be right there."

Zayn had put Liam on speaker to have his hands free to start preparing the weed. He was sat on the floor, long legs stretched out under the table, his boots propped up on the other side, and he was rolling joints with his elegant fingers, tongue peeking out to wet the paper. 

"I just talked to Harry," Liam was saying. "He didn't tell me they were having a party."

Louis dropped onto the sofa behind Zayn, his legs on either side of Zayn's shoulders. "It's not a party, Li. It's the four of us getting baked while Haz grumbles until I can talk him into it."

"Sounds like a Saturday," Liam said.

Louis folded his arms and rested his chin on top of Zayn's head, the stiff gelled spikes of his hair crunching under Louis' weight. "Except it's Wednesday," he said.

"Because there's no such thing as weekends in One Direction," Zayn continued.

"I'll bring the beer?" Liam asked. 

"Now that sounds like a Saturday, mate," Louis said. Zayn held the first joint above his head for Louis to take. Louis bit Zayn's finger when he took it, hands-free, with his teeth.

They smoked the first one between the two of them, right then. Louis used the lighter he found between the sofa cushions, lighting the twisted end and sucking the smoke deep into his lungs. The first smoke after a while always burned, no matter what. This close to tour start was tempting fate. God only knew what his voice would sound like tomorrow morning. But in the moment, Louis didn't care what the label thought.

"How's married life then?" Zayn asked. He rolled the rest of the weed while Louis watched over his shoulder. When he wanted a hit, he leaned his head back against Louis' chest until Louis put the joint to his mouth.

"He's driving me up the fucking wall."

Zayn laughed, coughing and blowing all the smoke back into Louis' face. "Harry the stress cleaner."

"Something like that." Louis slid from the sofa to the floor. He stubbed the last of the first joint in the ugly ashtray--a souvenir from Miami--and with his hands free, wrapped himself around Zayn. He pressed his cheek to the back of Zayn's neck. "I keep waiting for him to settle down. He just came back from a week in LA, fixing up our house there. I thought being back home would let him relax for a few days at least. A break for us before the tour starts up."

"He's not going to relax," Zayn said. The first joint had made his voice hazy and slow, but it wasn't enough to make them high. Not high enough that Louis didn't know Zayn meant every word he was saying. "He knows he can't. Not while you two are still playing this game with the media."

"I only wanted a few days where we can enjoy ourselves. Being ourselves, you know?"

"I can go home," Zayn said. "We can take this party to my place."

"Shut it. Of course we want you here." He pressed his lips in a kiss against Zayn's cheek. "Or I want you here," Louis said. "I don't know why he's hiding."

They stayed quiet like that, Louis resting his head on Zayn's shoulder and Zayn resting his hand on Louis' knee. He squeezed Louis through his sweatpants until Louis couldn't help it. He squealed a laugh and kicked out, away from Zayn's hand.

"Don't even," he said, but Zayn's hand came right back, higher up, fingers ticking at Louis' inner thigh. They weren't stoned enough to get away with that today. Not when Louis had no idea what was up with Harry. "You're a married man, Mr. Malik," Louis said, his hand dropping to Zayn's wrist to halt him.

Zayn leaned his head back on Louis' shoulder. He scooted back between Louis' legs, and he must have felt how hard Louis was now, through his sweatpants. "So are you," Zayn said.

Louis pressed his lips over the bird tattooed on the back of Zayn's neck. "Not yet."

It wasn't a deal, exactly. It wasn't something any of them had sat down and talked about, though they had talked about it among themselves. The people who came into their lives, they had to know the boys came first. Perrie understood that; she had her girls before she had Zayn. 

It wasn't all the time. It was only on tour. Louis figured that a few days before tour, with both their partners conveniently absent at the moment, could be forgiven. He reached over Zayn's shoulder for another joint and the lighter. 

"Take your mind off things," Zayn said, his fingers moving on Louis leg. 

"Thought that's what the weed was for."

Zayn hummed a sound that wasn't really an answer. "Should we?" he asked when Louis didn't say anything more. He turned around on his knees, and Louis stretched out, leaning back against the sofa. Zayn was wearing jeans, so Louis couldn't tell how hard he was, but his eyes were shiny, and his smile was dirty.

Louis took a pull off the joint. When he handed it to Zayn, he let their fingers drag together. It was the same move that had seduced Harry in the first place. Harry was a sucker for accidental touches. 

He held the smoke in his lungs until he couldn't stand it. Louis closed his eyes, leaned his head back, and let the smoke out towards the ceiling. His body was warm and relaxed, and Louis wanted to touch himself. So he did. He put his hand on his erection, through his joggers and his pants. A wet spot on the grey fabric was evident right away.

"Let me," Zayn said. He passed the joint back to Louis, for safekeeping. He leaned forward, his hands on the sofa behind Louis' head, and he gave Louis a kiss first. Zayn was very good with his mouth. Perrie was a lucky girl.

"If you insist." Louis took another drag. He was floating now. He put his free hand in Zayn's hair, which was spiky and crunchy, and nothing like Harry's soft curls. But Louis liked that. He liked how different all of them were. There was no mistaking Zayn for Harry or Liam for Niall or Niall for Harry or whatever combination they fell into. Even when Louis was high. Even when he was thinking about Harry, upstairs, with the laundry. This was definitely Zayn under his hand.

"You love this," Louis said, feeling the first touch of Zayn's tongue on the tip of his cock. Before Zayn took him in his mouth, he licked up everything Louis was leaking and licked his lips of anything he missed. "Do I need to tell Pezza to get herself a strap-on and fuck you good?"

"No," Zayn said. He looked up from between Louis' legs, his back a beautiful curve and his eyes sparkling. "She already did."

"Fuck me." Louis put the joint back between his lips for another drag. He blew the smoke down in Zayn's face. "Remind me to get that story the next time Harry invites you two over for dinner."

Once Zayn took Louis' cock down, as much as he could handle, Louis leaned back into the sofa, closed his eyes, and settled in to enjoy himself. He didn't want to talk. Talking was everything he was avoiding with Harry, and the quiet was nice. The telly was on mute, and all Louis could hear was the wet noises of Zayn's mouth on his dick.

"Good," he said, drawing his fingers over Zayn's ear and down his neck. "This is good," Louis said. "You're so good." 

He could come fast or slow. Louis could feel the orgasm close, and it was all a matter of how much work he wanted to put in to put it off. Another drag burned the joint down to his fingertips, and Louis had to stretch the length of the sofa to find a safe place to put it down. Zayn muffled a protest at him when Louis' hips twisted too far.

"Sorry, mate." Louis rolled back, shuffling down farther to give Zayn more space to work between his legs. "Carry on."

Louis decided he wanted to come now. He didn't want to wait any longer. With the weed making his head fuzzy and Harry making his heart clench, what Louis needed right now was a release. His body floated above Zayn on his knees, and when Louis looked down, his breath caught in his throat. 

They looked beautiful together, Zayn's dark hair brushing the paler skin on Louis' stomach. He was palest there. It was one of Harry's favourite places to leave lovebites because they stood out the darkest. Zayn slid one hand up Louis' thigh to stroke him there, at the dip between his leg and his torso, the most sensitive skin. Louis jumped, but he held back, careful of his cock in Zayn's mouth.

"Keep going," Louis said. He didn't want Zayn to stop. His mouth was so warm, and his tongue worked on the underside of Louis' cock. Zayn was so fucking good at this. Louis almost wanted to collect Harry and do a debrief, see if Zayn had any tips. Not that Harry didn't give spectacular blow jobs. Harry loved blow jobs. Louis loved Harry.

Louis closed his eyes and lay back, and he spread his arms across the sofa for something other than Zayn to hang on to. Zayn was doing fine on his own. He didn't need any help from Louis. Louis needed to send Perrie flowers, something to thank her for teaching her fiancé how to go down.

His belly tightened, and Louis found himself panting out loud. He squeezed his toes in the carpet, the soft and shaggy kind Harry picked out and felt so nice when they fucked on the floor. Louis said, "Soon, babes," just in case he didn't get another chance to warn Zayn before he came.

He could feel it. A blow job orgasm was like a tiny knot low in his stomach. It twisted itself up until it was tighter and bigger than Louis felt like he could hold onto. He felt Zayn's hand wrap around the base of his cock, and he felt Zayn's mouth pull off to blow cool air over the wet tip. That was more than Louis was expecting, and everything he needed. 

"Now," he said, as that knot unfurled, sending its ropes of pleasure all through his body. Down to his toes, and up through his chest, Louis felt it like sun shining through the fog around his head. He wanted to watch, but he couldn't open his eyes. "Fuck, Zee, yes, fuck." His hand flailed until it landed in Zayn's hair. Louis gripped him through the best of the orgasm. "You're fucking unbelievable."

They lay there, Zayn between Louis' spread legs and his head on Louis' thigh, until Louis blinked his eyes open and snorted out a laugh. He was a mess, and Zayn wasn't helping, painting a pretty scene on Louis' skin, using his come like finger paint.

"Did you come?" Louis asked. Zayn nodded happily. "Then get off," he said, bucking his thigh to shake Zayn up out of his post-orgasm haze. Louis was halfway to sober now. That was the worst part about getting off while high. Such a waste.

"You like that, Lou?" Zayn grinned up at him from the floor. Louis bent over to take Zayn's face in both of his hands and hold him still for a kiss. They never kissed deep--those kisses were reserved for Harry and Pezza--but even their usual peck tasted salty.

"You're the best, babes." Louis hauled him up onto the sofa, settling Zayn in the spot he had just vacated. "Now call your girl." He left Zayn with his cellphone on his chest, and Louis wandered away in search of his boy. He stopped first in the kitchen, looking for a big glass of water. His mouth was dry. 

Having Zayn here was great, but Louis loved the time he and Harry had to themselves. Even if it was only a few minutes alone in one of their bunks on the bus, the curtain pulled shut, and the two of them muffling moans with each other's mouths, that time was necessary. It made everything else that was awful about their lives bearable.

Louis ran the tap until it was cold, but before he filled his glass, he bent over the sink and splashed water on his face. He ran his wet hands through his hair, slicking it back off his forehead, letting his hands fall over his neck and down his chest. It was nice, a balm from the smoky heat building in the front room. 

But his hands weren't Harry's hands. Zayn's body wasn't Harry's body. Louis hated being in the same house for the first time in weeks and feeling so far away from him. 

Louis checked the laundry room down the hall first, but it was empty. The washer and dryer were both running, but the pile of clean laundry that usually lived in the basket on top was missing. Which meant Harry should be upstairs, folding. He was a stress cleaner, like Zayn said, but laundry was the worst. Louis teased Harry about how much laundry got him off, but it did. The vibrations, the smell, the way a load of laundry was the two of them mixed up together. 

Louis found Harry in their bedroom, sitting in the middle of the bed, neatly folded piles of shirt, pants, socks, and jeans around him in a circle. Louis thought about pouncing, about having Harry off right here, if he didn't think Harry would kill him for messing up his work.

"Are you going to join us?" he asked, leaning against the open door. Harry was slow to look up, and even when his eyes found Louis, he just shrugged. "Are you cross with me? Do you want me to send Zayn home?"

Harry shook his head. There was a twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth. It was a dirty ploy, but Louis knew that Harry would never send the boys away. Harry held a hand out, his palm up, fingers curled and waiting for Louis to take hold.

"I'm worried you're not okay," he said, pulling Harry's arm around his waist and settling on the bed next to him. Harry pulled him even closer, until they unbalanced and tipped back onto the bed, Louis on top of a pile of Harry's plaid shirts.

"I'm good," Harry said. "I'm good because I'm here with you."

"Were you not good in LA?" Louis asked.

"It's not the same." Harry rolled them back, Louis dangerously close to the edge of the bed, but he knew Harry wouldn't let him fall. Harry had one hand on Louis' hip, the other behind his back, gripping hard to his shoulder. "It's better here," he said. "It's better with you." 

"I'm always with you," Louis told him. "You know that." 

Harry buried his face in Louis' chest. He knew that. Louis didn't have to say anything. He held Harry tighter, brushing his hair back, petting Harry where it was softest around his ears. 

"Our break is over," Harry said. He curled up on the bed, twisting around to push up into a kiss. He made a tiny noise against Louis' mouth, a scared sound that had Louis holding him tighter. "It's back to normal in a few days."

"This is normal," Louis said, fiercely. "This is our normal, Haz."

With their time off from One Direction over, it meant interviews and photo shoots and walking around outside without being able to hold Harry's hand. It meant shows every night and fans. Always fans. Harry didn't need this time before the madness to sulk. He needed every moment of happiness before the world came rushing back into their lives.

"Get up," Louis said. He rolled Harry off his chest, and he sat up before Harry could crawl back into his arms. "Up, up," Louis said. "We're not doing this today. Today, Zayn has weed, and Liam is bringing beer, and if we're lucky, Niall will bring something amazing that I can't even predict."

Harry took Louis' hand when it was offered, and he got up off the bed. He loped behind Louis, stumbling into him as they walked, but also catching Louis around the waist so they wouldn't fall. When they danced, Harry had to lead, only because he was also strong enough to keep them on their feet.

Niall was in the living room with Zayn when Harry and Louis walked in. He was sprawled on his back on the sofa, blowing the smoke from his joint upwards into the air, misshaped circles in the sunlight. But as soon as he saw Harry, Niall jumped to his feet and launched himself into a hug. Louis couldn't blame him; Harry gave the best hugs.

"You didn't come see me when you got back," Niall said. "Thought we had lost you to America forever, mate."

"Never forever," Harry said. He put Niall back on his feet, but shook his head at the offer of the joint. Harry sat in the space Niall left on the sofa. He stared up at Louis until Louis sat down next to him.

They finished another joint before Liam arrived, which made it perfect time for a break. Liam had brought a case of beer, as well as bags and bags of crisps and pretzels. 

"Carbo-loading before training starts?" Louis asked.

Liam nodded, tossing Louis the Doritos. "Better to get them out of my house now."

Harry declined those, too, laughing and pushing the bag away when Louis shoved it in his face. 

"It's not a party until we get Harry stoned," Zayn said from where he was sitting on the floor, his booted feet up on their coffee table. A handful of perfect fat joints were lined up on the table between the Xbox controllers. They looked so pretty. Louis rolled into Harry's side to pull his phone out of his back pocket.

"You're not taking a photo, are you?" Liam frowned down at Louis. Niall snorted a laugh. "I'm only saying it's not a good idea!"

"Please note for the official record," Louis said, nudging Harry back into the conversation, "that Liam Payne would rather not."

"I thought we noted that in perpetuity three years ago," Zayn said.

Everyone turned to stare at him. Louis almost swooned at the confused look on Harry's face. Louis leaned into him, and Harry put his arm around Louis' neck, just like Louis wanted. 

"Light 'em up, Li. I'm not stoned yet."

They smoked three more between the five of them, with Harry accepting the joint when Louis offered it to him only every second time. The other times, he demanded a kiss instead. Louis gave him both, eagerly. By the time they had smoked all the weed Zayn had brought, drunk half the beer Liam had brought, and sung along to the Gaelic song stuck in Niall's head, they were stoned. 

They didn't even really need the drugs. Get the five of them in a room together with nowhere to be for the day, and they turned silly and giggly and prone to saying things they wouldn't normally say.

Louis caught Harry around the waist when he tried to get up off the sofa, and he pulled Harry down into his lap. "Let me suck you off," he said. Louis pushed Harry's hair up at the back and kissed his neck where it was warm and sweaty. "It's always so much better when I'm stoned." 

"Maybe for you," Harry said. He twisted out of Louis' grasp, which was getting depressingly easier as Harry kept growing. "For me, it's nerve-wracking what you're going to do with those sharp little teeth of yours."

Niall thought that was hilarious. 

Between the cloud of smoke filling their front room and his reluctant puffs, Harry was stoned. Now that the rest of them were leaning back and enjoying their high, Harry was getting restless. He always joined in, but it was never his favourite thing. 

Harry hated feeling out of control. Louis hated seeing him like this, eyes darting between the boys laughing and rolling around on the carpet, and his arms crossed tight around his chest like protection. Louis only wanted Harry to have fun. Louis wanted Harry to feel safe in their own home.

They watched him stumble into the kitchen. Louis roared his frustration and flopped back on the sofa. He couldn't keep running after Harry if Harry didn't want him.

"I've got this," Zayn said. He held out his fist for Louis to bump as he walked past. It was like passing the baton to let someone else run the race. 

There was quiet. Louis closed his eyes, but they popped back open, restless and watering. He covered his face with his arm and stayed there until someone pushed him up and someone else on his other side was there to catch him before he fell. 

"LA was no good?" Niall asked. He gave Louis his beer, even though it was warm now. It was wet, and Louis' mouth felt so dry. 

"He doesn't want to talk about it."

"Not even the house?" Liam asked. Liam had been there with them in March, but it was different then. They were together. "He was so excited about the house."

"He can tell me about the house," Niall said. "I haven't seen it yet." He leaned over the back of the sofa and hollered towards the kitchen. "Hazzaaaa! Get your arse in here!" Niall patted Louis on the back. "I'll cheer the bastard up."

"If he doesn't want a blow job, Niall, I don't think he wants cheering up." Louis finished the beer. He didn't even feel like sex anymore. His hands were shaking too much for video games. This whole night was a bust. He butted his head against Liam until Liam sat back and let Louis lay down in his lap.

When there was no response, and Zayn and Harry didn't return, Niall bounded off the sofa and went after them.

"You both get like this sometimes," Liam said. He pulled the headband off Louis' head and threw it across the room. Louis laughed at that. "It's better when you're not like this at the same time." Liam combed his fingers through Louis' hair, and it felt nice. It felt more than nice, actually. The scratch of his nails on Louis' scalp, and the weed still tingling all through his body.

"Are you saying you're sick of taking care of us, Li?"

"I'm saying I signed on to be a rock star, not a marriage counsellor."

Louis snorted at that. "Yeah, me, too."

Liam travelled his fingers down the side of Louis' face, scratching at his beard only long enough to make Louis huff and squirm in Liam's lap. Then his hand was flat on Louis' chest, a hot and heavy presence through the thin T-shirt Louis was wearing. 

Louis was ready to nod and say, "All right," because he and Zayn had already gone there. Why not the whole band today? 

Then Liam sighed, and Louis knew this was going to be a conversation, not a hand job.

"I know what they're talking about in the kitchen," he said.

"What?" Louis sat up. "Can you hear them?" He strained his ear towards the kitchen.

"No," Liam said, slapping him down. Louis settled against the arm of the sofa. He left his feet in Liam's lap, where he could kick his dangly bits and make him talk. "He called me." Liam paused, so Louis nudged him with his heel. "Harry called me from LA."

"Wait." That wasn't at all what Louis had been expecting. "What?" 

"Alexa was over there, right? So he was hanging out at her hotel, and he went to the bar to fetch them drinks, and some sleazy agent guy cornered him."

Louis wanted to be off this sofa right now. He wanted to be hugging Harry or kicking that guy's arse, but Liam held him down by his ankles. 

"What the fuck, Li?"

"He called me because he knew you would be like this."

"Bloody right I'd be like this." Louis could've kicked his way out of Liam's grip. Liam had the arms, but Louis had the thighs. It would be a fair fight. "I should've gone with him. Fuck." He sat with his arms crossed, fuming, waiting for Liam to continue.

"He's fine," Liam said, rubbing a reassuring hand over Louis' bare ankle. "He made it home safe. No scars."

"Go on. Tell me."

"It was Friday," Liam started.

Louis threw up his hands. "I was fucking home Friday. He knew that." At a look, Louis settled himself again. "Go."

"He snuck away to Alexa's hotel room, and he just sounded…" Liam needed a moment to pick the right word. Louis watched his brain working behind his eyes, looking for something he knew wouldn't send Louis off on a tear. "Shaken up. You remember how he used to get, when the crowds were too much?"

"Yeah." Louis remembered. Harry had the worst nerves of all of them, especially before he and Louis sorted themselves out and decided to be together. Having that anchor of their relationship helped a lot.

"I hadn't heard him like that in ages, Lou. He scared me a little, but he made me promise not to tell you."

"He's a right bastard. That's not a surprise."

"The guy wanted to know about the rumours, of course. He had all these plans for Harry. In the movies, like." Liam let out a long, sad breath. He looked over Louis' shoulder to the kitchen, but Louis could tell by his face that there was nothing to see yet. "He was just another cunt looking to make money off us, but you know Harry."

"Sometimes I think we're the only ones who do," Louis said. Liam turned a funny smile in his direction. "What?"

"The guy in LA freaked him out, but that's not what Harry is telling Zayn and Niall in the kitchen."

Louis knew he was still a bit stoned because nothing Liam was saying was making sense. 

"He wants to come out, you tit. He can deal with the people now. It's the rumours he hates." Liam poked him in the belly, causing Louis to curl up and cry out. "You think you know Harry? How long has he been waiting for you to be ready, Lou?"

He didn't have to be sober to know the answer to that question. Four years. That's how long they had been together, and that's how long Harry had stayed in the closet because Louis wasn't brave enough to come out with him. It was supposed to be safer in there. But it wasn't any safer than out here, where creepy old men tried to seduce Harry because Louis stayed home.

"It's easier when I don't have to talk about it."

"How's that working out for you?" Liam asked. He squeezed Louis's knee, where he knew Louis was ticklish. Louis kicked him in the balls, but not hard. Hard enough to make Liam rethink his next move, which turned out to be holding Louis down on the sofa with strong hands wrapped around his biceps. 

It hadn't been that long since Louis last came, but he was hard again. He pushed his hips up against Liam to check if he was up for it, too.

"What is this?" Louis asked, even though he knew. Liam never did this without Harry in the room, but Louis watched him sit up, his hand following the soft curve of Louis' belly until Liam stopped, resting above the bulge in Louis' joggers.

"What do you want it to be?" Liam asked.

Louis swatted his hand away and nearly fell off the sofa, laughing. Liam caught him around the middle, and they were both curled up in a wheezing tangle when the other boys came back to the living room, arms laden with food. 

"What is this?" Harry asked, a bowl of fruit salad balanced in one giant hand, and that set them off laughing again. 

It took Zayn offering Louis a hand up and Niall offering his shoulder for Liam to muffle his laugher before they calmed themselves. All five of them were on the sofa now, Louis at one end, and Harry at the other, their whole band between them. It didn't feel deliberate when he sat down, but now Louis wasn't sure.

"I think Liam wanted to give me a handy," Louis said, adding pretend outrage to his voice and putting his hand on his chest. 

"You looked like you needed it!" Liam wailed in his defence.

"How does someone look like they need a hand job?" Niall wondered aloud. "That could be helpful."

"You ask, Niall. Don't be a prick." Harry stood up to arrange the food forgotten on the coffee table. He packed up Zayn's bag of scissors and rolling papers, finding one lost joint among the mess. He passed it off to Zayn, who was closest, though Harry's long arms could stretch across the table to any one of them. He was distracted, and Louis noticed he wasn't looking up. He wasn't looking at Louis, but he also wasn't looking at any of them.

"Last one, boys?" Zayn asked. Niall passed him a lighter. Niall always voted yes.

Louis should sober up. As soon as the boys were gone, he and Harry needed to have a conversation. But first Louis had to get Harry to look at him. He took the joint when Liam passed it over. Louis took a long pull, drawing as much smoke into his lungs as he could, using every trick from every vocal coach. He held it in, and he stared at Harry, willing Harry to look up, to say something, to reach out and make this right.

But Louis wasn't that strong. Every one of their critics was right. He let the smoke out in a gasping cloud, leaning forward as Liam banged on his back. 

"Pass it over," Zayn said. "You're done for the night."

He felt it, too. Liam cracked open a beer and held it out for Louis to take. He nodded his thanks and sucked it down.

Harry had made a feast out of the meagre leftovers in their fridge. Instead of coming home to food gone bad, Harry had chopped up the fruit into a salad. He had fried the leftover takeout rice with the roast chicken from yesterday, added scallions and black bean sauce. He had even made mac and cheese, except with the fancy pasta and the expensive cheese. Louis couldn't think of what Harry was trying to use up, only that he knew it was one of Louis' favourite dishes.

There were plates and forks and napkins, but most of them ate straight out of the bowls. It didn't take long before they slid off the sofa and onto the carpet, huddling around the low table, bumping knees, and laughing over dinner. 

Life was meant to be like this, always. Even when they were home, when they were supposed to be taking time off and away from each other, this was where Louis wanted to be, with these boys. Liam said they would burn out if they didn't learn how to live apart, but Louis didn't care. 

He finished everything on his plate, then started in on Liam's. His mac and cheese was closer than the dish in front of Niall. When Louis leaned in with his fork, instead of batting him away, Liam put his arm around Louis' shoulders and held him closer. He could sense what was going on. Liam didn't always say the right thing, but Louis didn't care. Liam always did the right thing. 

Louis looked up when he heard Zayn's sharp laugh across the table, and he caught Harry looking. His hair had fallen out of the blue scarf wrapped around his head, curls falling in his face, and it was easy for him to look down and pretend their eyes hadn't met. This sulking had gone on long enough for Louis. They had their boys, a feast, and the better part of a high on a glorious day off. Louis didn't want to waste this on Harry's bad mood.

He hated being the responsible one. Louis hated having to make the first move. His entire relationship with Harry was built on Louis making the first move. This band should fall on their knees and thank him. He kicked his foot out under the table, meeting Zayn's boot before he found Harry's toes. Harry looked up again. He looked straight at Louis. Louis smiled, waiting for Harry to smile back.

"This is good, babe," Louis said, stabbing pasta off Liam's plate and holding it up for Harry before eating. That got a smile, but not the one Louis wanted. He wanted the big Harry smile. Not the Harry Styles on stage smile. Louis wanted the Harry in love smile. He liked that one best.

"Thank you," Harry said, ducking his head towards his own plate. He and Liam were the only ones eating the fruit salad, and only because Liam was so nice. All four of them knew Harry only made it for himself.

"Are you feeling better?" Louis felt Liam pull his hand away. He felt Liam move closer to Niall, and he saw Zayn doing the same across the table. Harry and Louis had spent too much time today hiding behind their friends, their chores, weed. The boys knew it, too, and now they were giving them space.

Harry nodded. "A little."

"Can we?" Louis pointed towards the kitchen. If that's where Harry felt comfortable talking, that's where Louis wanted to be.

He stood up, patting Liam's shoulder to let him know things were okay, and he rounded the table to take Harry's hand. He got the Harry in love smile, which meant Louis made the right move. He didn't always, so that smile felt like a reward.

Louis' grand prize was Harry's hand in his, all the way to the kitchen, when Harry let go of him only long enough to wrap both arms around Louis and hug him from behind. They swayed together in the middle of the floor, and the only sound, Harry's sighs and the boys laughing in the other room.

"I wish you had told me about LA," Louis said, finally. He had to own up to it because Harry never would.

Because Harry was Harry, there was no betrayal. But because Harry was a confusing boy, Louis felt the disappointment. He felt it in Harry's sighs and the way his arms tightened around Louis' neck.

"You weren't here," he said.

Louis thought back to last week. He and Liam had meetings with Julian about the new album, which was why he was stuck in London when Harry went to LA. Then he spent a few days in Doncaster with the family. Then he came home, and Harry was there, cleaning the whole damn house.

He turned in Harry's arms and lifted his own around Harry's neck. "I was here the whole time, love. Where would I go without you?" Louis pushed up on his tip-toes to kiss Harry's nose.

"I came home early, and you weren't here."

Louis kissed his pout. "Well, that's what happens when you come home early. I was missing my boy, so I went to see my girls." He pushed his fingers into Harry's hair, pulling off his headscarf, and letting Harry bury his face into Louis' shoulder. "I wish you had called me."

He mumbled something into Louis' sweater.

"What's that, love?"

Harry turned into Louis. He pressed his forehead against Louis' neck, and when he spoke, his lips buzzed against Louis' skin. "It was stupid."

"If it had you scared enough to call Liam, it wasn't stupid." Louis moved them to the table, pushing Harry backwards until he was sitting up, and Louis could stand between his open legs. "When did you think we were going to talk about all of this? On tour?"

"Told you it was stupid," Harry said.

Louis kissed him. He had his hands on Harry's hips, and he pressed him back on the table, feeling Harry go limp under his lips. Louis nipped bites down Harry's throat, then back up to his jaw, stopping under his ear to suck a big bite. Once it was red and beautiful, Louis stepped back to press his thumb against Harry's skin. Harry made a lovely sound, a low moan that Louis felt down to his toes.

When Louis leaned back in, Harry opened his mouth to let him in, humming happily when Louis pushed his tongue inside. Louis had been missing this all day. Not sex. The closeness. Knowing he was allowed to reach out and touch Harry just because. That he wouldn't be turned away. They traded touches until Louis had to move his hips away. He was already too hard in his joggers.

"Not in the kitchen, love."

Harry's mouth turned down. He loved sex in the kitchen, and Louis rarely denied him. But with the boys in the other room, Louis was being a grown-up and slowing them down before making up went too far. 

"They don't care," Harry said, shaking his head.

Like he had heard the words, Niall shouted from the living room, "Are you blokes having sex in there?" 

Harry hugged Louis around his middle. "Let's kick 'em out, Lou," he said, whispering in Louis' ear. "Take me to bed."

But Louis knew this move. He knew this was Harry distracting Louis from the stuff he didn't want to talk about. After a minute of quiet, holding each other in their arms, enjoying a moment in their home together, Harry finally spoke. Louis knew he would.

"This doesn't feel like home without you here," he said. "LA, too."

"I don't know if I'm ready," Louis said, because he knew what Harry was really saying. He wasn't mad Louis was in Doncaster when he came home to London. He was sad Louis couldn't be in LA more often. It was too obvious, especially now that they were both single. There were only so many trips Louis could explain away with business.

"How about, this tour, we just don't worry about that stuff?"

"What do you mean?" Louis asked. He took Harry's hand and helped him up off the table. They wandered back to the other room. 

"Forget the rules. Go back, you know, to how we used to be."

It sounded nice. It also sounded like a million years ago and so far away. Louis still had Harry, but he felt like a whole different person. They used to be embarrassing kids in love. Now they were older, and still in love, but Louis tried to be less embarrassing. The boys, and the fans, always let him know when he wasn't succeeding.

The boys weren't in the living room when Harry and Louis came back, though the mess of food and weed and beer remained. Another mess for Harry to clean up before they had to go on tour. 

"Outside?" Harry asked, wondering aloud. 

That was Louis' guess, too. Liam would have demanded fresh air, Niall would have wanted to roll in the grass, and Zayn would have gone along for the ride. "We could leave them out there," Louis said. "Sneak back into bed."

"This was your party, boo. Be a good host."

Louis grabbed a bag of crisps on their way out the back door. He could hear Zayn laughing now. The sun was only just falling towards the horizon. If they were lucky, there'd be a fantastic sunset for them.

With a tug of his hand, Harry stopped them before they stepped outside.

"What's up?"

Harry looked down at his feet. They were bare, like Louis', and the tattooed words across his ankles were stark on his pale winter skin. Louis nudged Harry's legs apart with his knee. He stepped closer until they were tangled together and Harry was forced to hold Louis to hold them up.

"You didn't say." Harry's words were unusually slow. The weed, his mood, their aborted orgasm earlier in the kitchen. All of it made Harry sound rough and syrupy. "What are we going to do about this tour?"

"I'm not wearing braces," Louis said, because he knew it would make Harry laugh. It was even better than Louis could hope for; it made Harry throw his head back.

"Tell us the joke, Tommo!" Niall held up his arm, like a beacon drawing the two of them to where he was laid out on the grass, Zayn and Liam arranged to make sad star on the ground.

"I don't think I want to know," Liam said. He rolled over, making room for Harry and Louis to join them. As their high slowly dissipated, laying on the ground and staring at the sky actually sounded like the perfect end to the night.

"It was about braces," Harry said. He sounded so put out. "Not sex."

"That's what you think," Niall said. "But I've seen that look on Tommo's face before."

Liam rolled over and onto his elbow. "Yep. That's a sex face."

"How would you know?" Louis protested. 

Zayn was on Harry's far side, curled up on Harry's shoulder to muffle his laughter. "Everyone knows your sex face, Lou."

"You only know his blow job face," Harry explained. "He has a lot of sex faces."

Before Liam could get to his feet, Louis dragged him back down into the grass. He held him there with an arm across his chest. "If I have to sit through this, so do you."

"He's your boyfriend," Liam moaned. "Tell him to shut up."

"Shut up, Haz."

Harry reached out to take one of Louis' hands. He cradled it against his chest with his two big hands covering Louis' completely. "Yes, dear."

The evening was quiet after that. The sky went red, then purple, then pink, then black. Zayn pointed out the Big Dipper; Harry called him a big dripper, and everyone laughed, which meant they were probably still stoned. Louis loved this neighbourhood, where all five members of One Direction could lay outside in the backyard, singing along when Harry started humming his favourite Beach Boys song, and no one came spying. They had hedgerows planted last summer, and now they had grown well above the line of the fence. Louis was looking forward to Harry sunbathing in the nude this summer.

"I'm sober now, baby." Louis threw a leg over Harry's thighs and bit his shoulder through the flannel. "Lemme give you that blow job. Zayn taught me a few things earlier."

"Louis!" Zayn covered his face with his arm. Niall had to sit up so he wouldn't choke on the Doritos. 

"You and Zayn were doing blow jobs?" Liam punched Louis' shoulder. "Somebody owes me an orgasm."

"Come here, mate," Niall said. "I'll give you a tug."

"See, Niall?" Harry threw his hand up in the air, pointing dramatically in Niall's direction. "All you have to do is ask." He leaned over and tapped for Zayn's attention. "Isn't it a lovely dick?"

"Harry!"

"What?" He rolled all the way over, settling himself on top of Louis, their hips lining up and his chin on Louis' chest. "It's a compliment."

"Is it too late to join a new band?" Zayn asked the stars.

This time, when Louis wrapped himself around Harry, kissed his forehead, and said, "Take me to bed," this time, Harry complied. He crouched to let Louis know he wanted to carry him, so Louis rolled over the grass and clung to Harry's back. Harry grunted as he stood to his feet. Louis pushed his hair out of the way to kiss his neck and say, "Don't hurt your back, H."

"Good night, boys!" Harry turned to wave to Zayn, Liam, and Niall, still flat on their backs in the grass.

"Maybe wait an hour before heading up to the guest rooms," Louis said over his shoulder. "We're gonna be loud."

"Go to bed!" Niall shouted after them. Harry giggled all the way up the stairs. 

Louis loved being home where they could do silly stuff like this. He kicked his feet in the air and made loud smacking noises as he left kisses all over Harry's neck and cheeks and in his hair. At a time when it was forbidden to put his arm around his best mate in public, Louis hoarded these private moments when they could just be. 

Harry had a few anniversaries he liked to celebrate, but Louis counted from the beginning. Four years now, since the first time he spotted Harry's curls in a crowd. He thought about that day every time he glanced to the other side of the stage, finding Harry dancing in his own world. When they were stuck on opposite ends of the sofa during an interview, Louis could be sure Harry was there without looking. 

Four years Louis had been scamming piggyback rides from Harry, and it wasn't old yet.

Except when Harry dumped him, unceremoniously, outside their bedroom door.

"You're not fucking me in the hallway," Louis said, using the door jamb to find his balance again. Harry was already out of reach, picking up the stacks of laundry on the bed and putting them away. "How do I put up with you?" he muttered.

"The laundry is clean, Lou, and I'd like it to stay that way." Harry had to use two hands to get their pants drawer to close. For a boy who loved to be naked, Harry sure owned a lot of fancy pants. "We're not living out of suitcases yet."

On his way to the bed, as Harry made his way to the closet with an armful of flannel, Louis let his hand graze across Harry's back. Just a touch, and if someone asked, Louis couldn't say what it meant. Harry smiled over his shoulder because he didn't have to ask. He knew. It was just a touch to say, I'm still here. You're still with me. 

Louis stripped off his vest and tossed it in the direction of their laundry hamper. Harry picked it up as he walked passed and dumped it inside. Louis kept his pants on, but he skimmed his joggers down and stepped out of them. He left them on the floor for Harry and flopped back on the bed.

"Did you know it's been four years?" Louis asked. He piled the pillows behind him so he could watch Harry bending and lifting. His thin shorts stretched deliciously over his backside. 

"No it hasn't."

"I know, it doesn't feel like it, but it's been four years." Louis leaned back and grasped the headboard, arms above his head.

"Because it hasn't been four years. We didn't get together until January. 2011."

"That's your story, babe?" Louis laughed. He nudged Harry's shoulder with his right foot when Harry came back to fetch the last pile of clothes: a stack of T-shirts, both of theirs mixed together. "What about all those times I made you come in the X-Factor bunk beds?"

Harry looked up, a deep crease between his eyes to match the deep dimple in his cheek. "That so doesn't count." He held the T-shirts to his chest like a high school kid carried his books to class. He wasn't laughing. 

"Then what was that?" Louis asked.

"That was kid stuff," Harry said, already walking away. 

"Didn't feel like it to me." He pulled one of the pillows down to cover his face. Harry was being impossible today. When he fell into these moods, sometimes the only thing Louis could do was ride it out. Harry wasn't sad a lot, and Louis was grateful to be one of the few people he felt safe enough to be around when he was, but with only a couple of days left before life rushed back towards them, Louis just wanted his Harry back.

He felt a hand on his ankle and peeked out from under the pillow. Harry stood at the end of the bed.

"Are you mad at me?"

"No," Louis said. He reached out his hand for Harry to take. Harry crawled up the bed and lay down on top of Louis, wrapping his arms around Louis' waist and resting his head on his chest. "Doesn't matter that we were just kids, babe. I've been in love with you since I got my hands in these curls." He tugged at the ringlets around Harry's ears. Louis loved to pull them straight and watch them spring back.

"Me, too." Harry whispered the words into Louis' chest.

"Are you scared I'm going to stop?" Louis asked. "Is that why you're feeling down today?" He turned on the bed so he and Harry were facing each other and he could get his arms around Harry, too. "I'm never going to stop."

"I know," Harry said.

"Since the very beginning, Haz," and then Louis could see Harry was crying, and he didn't know how the night had got away from them. Less than an hour ago, they were downstairs with their best friends, and they were high and laughing and counting the stars. 

"I know," Harry said. "I really do. It's not you I'm worried about." He sniffed and let Louis wipe the tears away with the edge of the pillowcase. "How can it be four years already? How did we let this happen to us?"

Louis understood now. Harry didn't want to believe they had lost so much time hiding themselves away. They were supposed to be stronger together, but they still didn't have the power to tell the people in charge of their band to fuck off.

Harry was suffering, and Louis had no idea how much until right now. He didn't know what he should do.

"Let's go back downstairs, baby. Let's have a cuddle with the boys."

"No," Harry said, clinging tighter to Louis. "I don't want them to see me like this. I feel stupid."

Louis rolled him onto his back, kissing all over his face until he reached Harry's lips. They kissed back and forth until Harry was breathing calm again. He let go of his grip on Louis' shoulders and ran his big hands through Louis' hair. It was so long now. It was a pain to wash, but Harry loved it, and Louis had promised to keep it until Harry said so. He had even made Lou promise she wouldn't cut it without Harry's written permission.

"Take your shirt off," Louis said. He kept his voice low. He didn't want to break the mood. 

Harry's fingers were clumsy on his buttons, so Louis did it for him. He didn't have to unbutton that many to slide Harry's shirt off his shoulders. Louis pulled his own shirt off, because Harry obviously wasn't in the mood for anything complicated tonight, and settled back between Harry's legs in just his pants. Harry was wearing a baggy pair of cargo shorts, the kind of thing he would never wear outside anymore. They came off easily with a single tug from Louis. It was maybe the fastest he had been able to undress Harry in years. 

He raised an eyebrow when he noticed Harry wasn't wearing pants. It wasn't a shock or even a surprise, but Louis could never let it pass without comment. "Laundry day," Harry said. He had to make sure he had all his favorite pairs clean for the tour.

Once Harry was naked and Louis was in pants, they both looked up, and they caught each other in a gaze. Harry's eyes were clear, and his hair was haloed around his head on the pillow. Harry smiled, and it was the smile Louis had been waiting to see all day. 

"Blow job?" Louis asked.

Harry sighed happily. "That sounds nice." He was a weird boy, but that was probably why Louis loved him so much. 

He skimmed his hands down Harry's legs, squeezing Harry's knees to spread Harry wider. He scratched his bitten-down nails up the soft skin, leaving red lines on Harry's pale thighs. He watched Harry buck and shiver, aching for more, but working to stay still. If Louis had to hold him down, he would. But Harry preferred to be good.

Louis gave him what he wanted when Harry was good. He pressed kisses to the inside of Harry's thighs, starting at his knobby knees and dragging his lips up towards the erection centre stage. Harry was hard already, not all the way, but curved upwards and resting on his belly. He kept his arms stretched above his head to avoid the temptation to touch.

"I like that," Harry said. Like wasn't good enough for Louis. He wanted to shake Harry apart.

He rubbed his scratchy stubble against the sweaty centre of Harry's legs. The sensitive span of skin under his balls twitched under Louis' touch. Louis licked the first two fingers of his right hand, and he drew a wet line down to Harry's dark hole, but he didn't press inside. It was a cheeky promise that Louis would be back.

Harry pulled his knees up, feet flat on the bed beside Louis, trapping him in the valley of his legs. Long and pale from so many months wrapped up in Harry's favorite skinny jeans, his legs were on display for Louis now. He bit a playful mark into Harry's knee, where he was most ticklish, and Harry kicked out. 

"Get on with it," he said, flapping a hand at Louis. 

"Get on with what, baby?" Louis pressed his own hand to his own erection, staining a wet spot in the front of his grey briefs. Touching himself was nice, but Louis could work himself up this high just watching Harry writhe and whine.

"You promised." Harry grabbed his chest, rubbing his palm over his nipples. Louis could see how hard they were already. 

"What did I promise?" Louis asked. He just wanted to hear Harry's voice, how deep and rough it got the more Harry needed.

"Suck me, Lou. Suck me."

Louis used his hands on Harry's hips for balance and tipped forward to kiss the leaking head of Harry's cock on his belly. "Of course, love," he said, moving his lips against Harry as he spoke. "You only had to ask."

Harry growled at him and bashed his fists against the mattress.

When they were home, in their own house, where they didn't have to hide in hotel rooms or stifle sounds on the tour bus, Louis loved to draw it out. He loved when sex lasted all night. He loved to hear Harry begging and see Harry wanting.

Other times, he just wanted to make Harry come because he could. Because he was allowed. Because that was his right and his privilege. 

Louis curved his body between Harry's legs, pressing his own cock to the mattress and grabbing Harry's in both hands. He put his mouth on the head and sucked. Harry's stomach tensed up, and Louis could see him struggling to lay still. Then Louis pulled his mouth away and just licked. He flattened his tongue over the slit at the end of Harry's cock, where he was sticky and salty, and Louis had to lick him up just so Harry wouldn't make a mess all over their clean sheets.

"You should've seen Zayn today," Louis said, sitting up to stare down at Harry, one hand beside him on the bed, the other holding a lazy rhythm on Harry's cock. 

"Tell me," Harry said. His eyes had been closed, but he forced them open to look up at Louis. This was part of the fun--sharing the story.

"I think the only reason he came over was for a blow job." Louis dipped down again, mouthing along the shaft of Harry's cock, touching him everywhere Louis' hand couldn't. "He was right gagging for it, Haz."

"You." The word in Harry's mouth stretched and tangled around his tongue. "Gagging for you."

Louis licked his lips, showing Harry his grin. "You think?"

Harry shook his head. "I know." He gasped when Louis sunk his mouth over his cock, all the way down to where Louis' fist was wrapped around the base. "Everyone wants you, Lou."

"But they can't have me," Louis said. He took Harry back into his mouth, and he held onto Harry's shivering thigh. It wouldn't take much. Harry was holding himself tight, one hand clenched in the sheets and the other pinching his nipples. He didn't know that Louis had plans. Louis would make Harry come now, in his mouth, then again, with Louis inside.

He moved his hand down to Harry's balls, rolling them in his palm, and Louis relaxed into the blow job, taking more of Harry in his mouth. He managed a half dozen deep throat thrusts before pulling back to work the head with his tongue again. Louis' head was still foggy from the weed and the beer, and Harry was big. His cock was so dark compared to the rest of his body, and the stiff hair around the base was nearly black. Louis scratched his nails down Harry's stomach, through his bush, then below. 

Lube was too far away, but Louis wasn't above teasing Harry a little. Harry was close now. He was panting, his chest was heaving, and he was making sounds, but not words. No matter. Louis knew what Harry wanted.

He pressed his dry fingertip inside Harry's ass, and he sucked Harry's cock down to the hair. Louis hollowed his cheeks and opened his throat, and Harry came.

Louis felt it like a shot to the top of his mouth, and he pulled all the way off, dragging his tongue against the sensitive underside of Harry's cock and grabbing it with his free hand to aim Harry's come up his chest. Harry's whole body was tight. There were tears squeezed out the corners of his eye, but after shooting six long stripes all over himself, he relaxed. He fell backwards into the pillows. Harry laughed.

"You liked that." Louis held onto Harry's cock, feeling it jump in his grip until it came to rest. He reached up to push his fingers into Harry's open mouth. He let Harry suck on them like he knew Harry wanted to suck his cock, but Louis didn't let him have too much. "We're not done, love."

Harry shook his head on the pillow. His hair was a mess, stuck to his sweaty forehead. "Never done," Harry said. 

Louis dragged his wet fingers down Harry's neck, stopping to play with his stiff red nipples, then continuing down over his stomach. He gathered up the come, and by the time Louis' fingers had made their way back to Harry's dick softening against his thigh, they were slick and ready for more. Louis pushed on Harry's knee to open him up, and he pushed his fingers inside.

It surprised them both, Harry's reaction. He let loose a low, deep moan that turned into Louis' name. His body jumped on the bed, but Louis found his control inside Harry. He curled his two fingers and pressed hard against Harry's prostate. Instead of making him crazy, it made Harry calm. Instead of an electric shock, for Harry, it was slipping into a warm bath. 

"Yeah," he whispered, and finally, Harry opened his eyes and looked down at Louis. 

"I know, right?" Louis smiled sweetly and pushed his fingers viciously harder into Harry. It only made Harry groan deeper and melt farther into the bed. "How much do you need, baby?"

"Just a little," Harry said, and Louis stretched him just enough. He added another finger, and he splayed them inside Harry until he was squirming and sighing under Louis' attention. 

"Do you want a condom, baby?" Louis had to pull his fingers out to crawl up the bed. He left Harry on his back and sprawled over his still sticky stomach to reach their bedside table. There was always lube to be found, but Harry only bought condoms sporadically. He went through condom moods. Louis didn't care, as long as Harry was the one doing the laundry.

"No," Harry said. He rolled after Louis, biting his back and pulling down Louis' pants. "Want you."

"Settle down," Louis told him. Harry went quiet, and in that moment, they heard a burst of Niall's laughter from downstairs. Harry snickered next, face pressed into Louis' back. "Like we could ever forget we're not alone."

Harry's arms slid around his waist and pulled Louis on top of him. "Get over here, and fuck me."

"You sure it's still me you want?" Louis asked. He grabbed hold of Harry's wrists and pinned him to the bed. "I'll bet Liam is a very gentle lover."

"I don't want gentle," Harry said. With their faces so close, his eyes were so green. "I want you."

Louis bit his chin, then his bottom lip, tugging Harry's mouth open. They kissed wet, with tongues and smacking noises that had Harry giggly underneath Louis. With Harry's mouth distracted, Louis flipped open the lube one-handed. He sat back on his heels to slick the fingers of his right hand, showing Harry what was going to happen next.

"Pillow," he said, and Harry lifted his hips, propping himself up at a better angle for Louis. "Thank you," Louis said, crossing his eyes and sticking out his tongue at Harry to make him laugh. He started with two fingers inside Harry, sliding in easily with how Harry was relaxed and loose, with how much Louis had been teasing him. "You're so ready," he said, with the same awe Louis felt watching Harry's body change from a soft-cheeked 16-year-old boy to this hard and inked 20-year-old man. 

Louis saw hints of the boy he fell in love with, especially in Harry's eyes and in his goofy smile when he was playing with fans from on stage. But Louis loved this man. This Harry, who wanted him so much that he didn't say it out loud because he knew Louis was scared.

"Love you," Louis said, pushing a third finger inside Harry. They were so used to holding the words inside, saying them with their hands and their songs instead. After singing dozens of hollow love songs, Louis thought the word itself had lost its meaning, but it wasn't true. It was exactly what Harry needed to hear from him right now.

"Love you, Lou." Harry let his legs drop to the bed, and he reached his long arms down to grasp Louis' shoulders. He looked peaceful, happy. Louis almost hated to fuck him and break the mood.

"Lay back," he said. Louis rearranged them, with Harry's knees pushed up to his chest, and Louis braced himself above Harry with a hand on the pillow. He hadn't bothered to take his pants off, and there was no time now. Harry had pulled them down around his thighs, and there they stayed while Louis lubed himself up, stroking fast to get his cock harder.

Harry didn't need a warning. They were prepared as much as they could stand. Louis lined himself up with Harry's hole, teased it open with the wet head of his cock, and pushed in. All in. He pushed until his cock was lost inside Harry, until he had to stop because Harry was clenching so hard around him. 

"Careful," Louis said. He sat back and stroked his hands over the underside of Harry's thighs. He pulled Harry's legs over his shoulder and leaned down for a kiss. "Feels so good when we wait."

Louis could come now. He knew Harry was almost there, despite his first orgasm. But Louis made them wait, made Harry kiss him, made them take a quiet moment just to feel. They could never know what kind of time and space they would have on tour. Louis hated to think this could be the last time to be together like this in months.

When he moved, when he pulled himself out and shoved back in, Harry tore his mouth away and cried out. He made a noise like Louis' name, tangled up with surprise and a dirty moan. So Louis fucked harder, grabbing Harry's hip and using his body for leverage.

Louis' hair was in his eyes now, and sweat dripped down the side of his face. Harry's eyes were closed, his mouth open, his fingers digging into Louis' shoulder, and between their bodies, his cock was hard, the hardest. He was beautiful. He was Louis' to take care of, and most of the time, Louis didn't know what to do. He could only try to shove their bodies back together, but it never lasted long. Harry would slip away again because Louis wasn't strong enough to hang on.

He fell forward onto Harry's chest, panting against his skin. From this angle, Harry's tattoos didn't look like anything. They looked like a mess, but Louis knew what they meant. He kissed the sparrow over Harry's heart. He held onto his orgasm as long as he could. He found a free hand to grab Harry's cock, and as soon as he felt Harry spill hot over his fingers, Louis let go to thrust harder. It didn't take him long to find his own release. 

The fog came over them fast and floated above the bed like a cloud of smoke before it was gone, and only Louis and Harry were left, in their bed, in their home. That was better anyway. Louis dozed on Harry's chest, with Harry's legs wrapped around his middle. He felt Harry's fingers in his hair, too, and Louis kissed the butterfly's wings to tell Harry to keep going.

"This tour is gonna be great," Harry was saying. Louis tried to pay attention, but his skin was tingling, his hands were trembling, and he felt sticky all over. "I'm gonna hike Machu Picchu. Think they'll let me hug an alpaca?" Harry asked.

"I don't know, love. Maybe if you promise to be gentle."

"I'm always gentle," Harry said. "Everyone loves my hugs."

Louis sighed. He wriggled about to find a more comfortable position, with his face tucked into Harry's neck. Harry smelled fantastic there, clean sweat and fruit salad. "Best hugs," Louis said. He was ready to sleep.

"And you get to play football in Argentina, in Brazil." Harry rubbed his hand up and down Louis' back. "It's really too bad we couldn't fix it to play South America at the same time as the World Cup."

"Biggest band in the world doesn't mean much, does it?"

Harry hummed. "Things'll get better," he said. Sometimes, Louis needed to hear the words as much as Harry did.

It was hard to see where life would go from here. The next album was already half written, and there would, inevitably, be a tour to follow. Shows had been planned well into the new year, and here they were, barely into this one. Zayn and Perrie had put off their wedding once. Liam and Sophie had decided it couldn't work. Harry was only just hanging on, and Louis knew that Niall's good mood couldn't carry them all. They would have to hold fast together.

A knock at the door interrupted their moment. 

"What do you want?" Louis blurted. Harry smacked him gently on the head. "We're still naked."

"So put some clothes on," Niall said. "Because we're coming in."

Louis moaned about it, but he sat up and got off the bed. Harry cleaned himself off with his flannel shirt from the floor, then threw it at Louis to do the same. Louis tossed him a clean pair of pants and found a pair of joggers for himself. 

Harry found a blanket in the closet and laid it on the bed to cover the wet spot. Then he opened the door to let them in. He spread his arms like a cruise director welcoming his favourite guests on board. 

"We're doing this tonight?" Louis asked. The three of them had also stripped down, ready to sleep. 

"Thought you both might need it," Zayn said. He rounded the bed to give Louis a hug and a kiss on his cheek.

"Reckon we could all use a cuddle right now," Liam said. He had been wearing his undershirt, but when he saw that Harry and Louis were topless, he slipped it off and tossed it at the hamper.

Harry and Niall had already jumped up on the bed. Harry arranged himself in the middle with room on both sides, Niall tucked under one arm. Zayn grabbed a pillow and slipped in behind him. Liam and Louis took the other side, with Liam giving Louis dibs on Harry. He wrapped himself around Louis and kissed the back of his neck.

"Is this all right?" Liam whispered, though Louis knew they had all heard him. 

It was exactly what Harry needed, and it was why Louis knew they would be okay. When he didn't know what to do with Harry, he had three boys to back him up. When Louis didn't know what to do with himself, he had four boys who made him strong.


End file.
